


To Be Great

by Rebldomakr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'What If Harry Wanted To Be Great', Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father Figure Hagrid, Religious Diversity, Slytherin Harry Potter, basically a collection of drabbles, because i'm sorry but i fucking doubt the wizarding world is all christian, first year, or monotheistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 10:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13028778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebldomakr/pseuds/Rebldomakr
Summary: Harry considered the Sorting Hat's words and a made a choice, one not yet determined to be good or bad.





	To Be Great

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any mistakes I didn't have a beta for this nor did I do much editing lmao

*The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the fall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting…So, where shall I put you?”

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” said the small voice. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that!”* The voice paused, suddenly, as if waiting. “Are you sure?” It repeated.

Suddenly, Harry thought of the Dursley’s. Aunt Petunia (“Freak, worthless thing, you!”), Uncle Vernon (“Pathetic! What good are you? Can’t even do the simplest tasks right!), and his cousin Dudley (“Freak! Freak!”). He thought of all his old classmates (“Loser!” “Don’t hang around him, his cousin hates him!” “Why?” “Well, he is a bit strange.”), too. And the idea of being great, more than they certainly ever thought he could be, was alluring.

“Slytherin will help you greatness.” It said again. “I swear to it.”

Harry’s grip on the stool tightened even further. _I could be great, if I go to Slytherin._

An image of Ron Weasley popped into his head. His newest, first, and only friend. He doubted he would want to be friends with a Slytherin very much. Does he want a friend, or does he want to be great?

“I can make the choice for you, as I’m supposed to.” The voice spoke up.

Harry gnawed on his bottom lip. “Okay.” He whispered, hesitant. The moment after he said it, he regretted it. _No, no! I want to be in Gryffindor-_

“SLYTHERIN!”

He took off the hat to embrace the cold silence of the hall. He shakily stood and placed the Sorting Hat onto the stool. Harry could’ve sworn that it smirked at him, he’s sure it did.

After his first few steps, the Slytherin table erupted into applause. And the rest of hall politely clapped, too, wide-eyes and amazed stares following him.

“Here, Potter, sit by me.” An older Slytherin said to him as he passed by, patting an empty seat to his right. Harry hesitated, before he obeyed.

“I’m Wallace Wilkes, pleasure.” The Slytherin held out his hand. Harry shook it, using the best grip he could manage.

“Harry Potter.” He introduced himself, even though he knew it wasn’t needed.

Wilkes grinned. “I know.” He said. He gestured to the other Slytherins around him. “This is Danielle Dancer, Amanda Bishop, Vincent Vaisey.” He made sure to point out each one, without actually pointing of course. “Danielle’s a fourth year like myself, Amanda’s a third year, and Vincent’s in his second year. Marcus Flint is one of us, too, but he likes messing with the first years.”

Harry looked to the end of the table, where a boy made a point of quietly taunting some poor first year girl who’d been recently sorted. He noted the boy, Marcus Flint surely, kept a wide berth from Draco Malfoy.

“Bartholomew Bole is over there, with his girl, Katherine Lime.” Wilkes continued. “Well, I ought to stop, you’ll learn everyone’s names soon enough.”

“You’ll know everyone within the first month.” Vaisey announced.

_Harry doesn’t know what he got himself into._

* * *

 

The Slytherin first year dormitories were uselessly large. Apparently, they were far used to larger groups of students. The unused bedrooms would be resealed after the first night, the Slytherin Head Boy had said, so to be sure which one you wanted. Due to the quantity of rooms, they were allowed to each get their own room. Harry chose the farthest down dormitory he could, though he noticed it was somewhat smaller than the others. He’d lived in a cupboard for ten years. He’d do just fine, considering the room was as big as the Dursley’s dining room, living room, and kitchen rolled into one.

Every dormitory came with the basics. Well, the basics according to the Head Boy. There was a bookshelf, desk, four-poster bed, a short but long dresser, and a personal bathroom. Apparently, personal closets became banned in 1807 after the Slytherin Closet Incident where two children went missing and were never found again. He found the story worrying and decided he’d avoid every closet he could in the entire castle.

Harry’s trunk didn’t come with enough stuff to fill up the room. All of his uniforms and underwear were neatly sorted into the dresser, but only a small portion of the dressers were filled. He placed all of his textbooks onto the bookshelf, which took up only one shelf. He placed all of his parchment and quills out on the desk, too.

The unpacking was useless because, after his trunk was empty, he simply picked up his book bag (an old possession of Dudley Dursley, one that he refused to use again after a mere year) and filled it with all that he could. He hoped he’d be able to sneak back to the dormitory to pick up textbooks between classes, because there was simply no way he’d be able to carry them all with him every day. He squeezed in some quills, plenty of parchment, and two bottles of black ink. He was sure it’d be enough.

He found himself busying himself around his dorm until nearly midnight. He knew, because of the clock on the ebony table by the bed. Even with the heavy, delicious food resting in his stomach, he was a ball of nerves.

Harry finally managed to fall asleep at nearly two in the morning.

* * *

 

All the unused dormitories had vanished, and Harry found himself far closer to his year-mates than he had been last night. He ignored it and went to the common room, carrying with him his heavy bag.

 “Potter, I’m honestly shocked you’ve come to your senses and joined the Slytherin House.” Draco Malfoy proclaimed the moment their eyes made contact, in the Slytherin common room before breakfast.

“Right.” Harry said, slow.

Malfoy zeroed in on his bag. “Potter, surely you have something nicer than that? There’s threads all over the place- _what is that stain_?”

“I forgot to buy a bag.” Harry admitted. “This one was pre-owned and it’s my only one, so.” He shrugged.

“Hold on.” Malfoy ordered. He bolted off and, within hardly a half-minute, he returned, carrying a large, steel grey bag. “This is my backup, you can have it. It’s charmed to be feather light and has an expanded inside, so you can carry everything in it.” He eyed one bulge coming out of Harry’s old bag, that was an ink bottle squeezed into a tiny pocket.

Harry blinked. “Thank you.” He said, astonished. He was sure the boy was far more spoiled rotten last night. He wondered if Malfoy changed like the castle seemed to.

After he moved all of his things from his old bag to the one Malfoy gave him, Harry hefted it onto his shoulder to find it had no weight at all. There weren’t any bulges, either, and he couldn’t help but think magic was amazing to make a small bag so large on the inside.

“Here, I’ll get rid of this.” Malfoy tossed the bag into the common room’s fireplace. The fire roared and engulfed it completely, spitting sparks out onto the floor. One of the Slytherin girls, droopily sitting on a chair by it, yelped when a spark landed on a small bare patch of skin on her leg.

* * *

The first month at Hogwarts passed by rapidly. Schoolwork combined with Malfoy’s insisted-upon study hours in the library, ones that even Crabbe and Goyle attended, made time pass. Harry found himself thinking very little of the Dursley’s and almost entirely of magic and the Wizarding World.

In the Slytherin House, Harry had to learn a lot. Not just people’s names, but also short understandings of their family history and blood purity. Without that knowledge, he found himself lost in many conversations he was forcibly drawn into. Malfoy a proud tutor, too, and told Harry everything he knew or thought he knew.

Every House member in Slytherin had an unofficial ranking. It didn’t go by year, either. It went by their family and own standing in the school. It took Harry only two days before he realized he was at the top of the food chain. Other Slytherins practically fell over themselves to try to talk to him, to get on his good side. Draco came shortly after him. Combined, it felt like they were the co-kings of the entire House. Harry wished he could lie and say it didn’t feel amazing. **But it so did.**

The Head of House, Professor Severus Snape, didn’t seem to like him very much, but he tolerated his existence. The other professors all did their very best to be impartial towards him, though he came to realize how much leeway they gave him compared to other students. When he was blamed for tripping Hermione Granger, Professor Sprout let him off on a gentle warning. With all the studying he had to do with Malfoy, he was also a good student- which kept him on their good sides.

Harry felt like the entire school was his to reign after that first month. Malfoy supported it, encouraging every bad behavior the boy could come up with. Whether it was using the word ‘mudblood’ or taunting other students. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t seem to care very much, though he thought they must like him since they didn’t care about giving him the last piece of bacon at breakfast. If he didn’t want it, they’d make a game out of fighting for it.

Finally, after that first month, Harry’s classes began teaching actual spells instead of dry theory.

[“Theory is important!” Malfoy had hissed at him once, when Harry dared to complain about rewriting entire sections of an old tome. “This,” He tapped his hand hard on the page the aforementioned tome was open to. Bits of dust flew up into the air. “Is extremely essential to our understanding of magic, and our ability to properly cast it- **Crabbe**! Do not tear that!” Luckily, Crabbe saved him by accidentally tearing off the corner of a page from his book.]

In Charms, they were taught the Levitation Charm. Naturally, it was a spell Malfoy had forced him to go over two weeks previous. In fact, Malfoy had forced him to go through all of their textbooks and was working him (and himself) to memorize all of the information in the books. Harry thought that well out of his limits, but Malfoy thought they ought to try.

Narrowly, Harry managed to make his feather float shortly before class ended. He earned Slytherin two points in congratulations.

* * *

 

On Halloween, a troll broke into the castle. The Slytherins had to sleep in the Astronomy Tower until it was confirmed that the troll had been exterminated and removed from the dungeons. It was a horrible experience, in Harry’s opinion, but he found some joy in watching the most stuck-up of his House Mates be forced to sleep on the floor.

Malfoy, especially, who almost stole someone else’s sleeping bag in his disgust.

There was also the beginning of the Quidditch season. Harry found himself falling into the sport and watched every game with Malfoy, even the ones where Slytherin didn’t play. He encouraged whichever House he felt like for the game. If Slytherin wasn’t playing, he rooted for Gryffindor. If Gryffindor wasn’t playing, he’d cheer on the Hufflepuff’s. In his opinion, a lot of the Ravenclaw’s were stuck up and he preferred to see the little bastards lose.

Amongst the typical chaos at Hogwarts, Harry found a dear friend in Hagrid.

The giant man had been the one to introduce him to the Wizarding World, and took it upon himself to invite Harry (and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle) to his hut for tea every weekend. Though none joined him, Harry was very happy to sit with Hagrid and talk. Hagrid made alright tea, though he wouldn’t dare touch any of the pastries the man baked. He took to having students visiting Hogsmeade bring him back sweets, or would buy some off of Malfoy, to take with him.

Hagrid had even begun to give him flute lessons. “Don’t know too much about music, but I know enough.” He made Harry his own flute, too, a simply carved wooden one. He couldn’t help but hug the man for it.

“No need to thank me!” Hagrid had insisted, but Harry paid no heed.

When Christmas began to near, Harry went to Malfoy for help.

Harry went to Malfoy for  a lot of things. When something was referenced he didn’t understand, typically something wizard-related, the blond lad would explain fully. Malfoy never left out any holes, over-explained and went off topic. One question answered led to the answer of a hundred other questions Harry didn’t even have at that time. It could be annoying, but it was also very helpful. It was Malfoy who helped him figure out how to talk to third years (and above) to have them buy things for him from Hogsmeade.

“What do wizards do for Christmas?” He asked.

“My family doesn’t celebrate it very much.” Malfoy admitted. “Mother had converted to Judaism when to married my father, but my father follows an Old Religion.”

“Old Religion?” Harry repeated.

“A religion that existed before the three major religions of today.” Malfoy explained. “There’s Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Father worships Roman gods in a limited fashion, he isn’t very religious. He celebrates Saturnalia, which is a bit like Christmas. Mother celebrates Hanukkah.”

Harry had heard of Hanukkah before, though not very much. He was sure one of his students at his old primary school had celebrated Hanukkah, but he couldn’t remember it too well.

“Hanukkah is celebrated for eight days, but it isn’t very important of a holiday.” Malfoy said. “Mother gives me gifts, and the food is good, but,” He shrugged.

“What do you think Hagrid does?” Harry asked.

“Just play safe and buy him something.” Malfoy said. “What religion doesn’t encourage gift-giving?”

Harry nodded. “Okay.” He said. “Um, what do you think he’d like?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

He ended up having a fourth year buy a large selection of candy from Hogsmeade, wrapping paper, and a pretty bow. The paper was metallic, a glimmering silver sheet that was enchanted to fix form perfectly. The bow was large and green. It felt very… **Slytherin**. However, he thought the ten galleons worth of candy made up for the Slytherin-ish-ness.

Hedwig delivered it on the night before Christmas.

On Christmas Day, Harry woke up to a small selection of gifts sitting in his dorm room by the three-foot tree that appeared over night with them.

Hagrid had gifted him an amazingly crafted ivory flute. Harry doubted the giant man had made it himself, and wondered how much he had spent on him. He suddenly felt as though his candy gift couldn’t compare and decided that he’d do better next year.

He’d also gotten a package from an unknown sender, containing an invisibility cloak. An older Slytherin had one, though it paled in comparison to the one Harry had been given. Apparently it once belonged to his father. _Strange_ , he thought, _I thought Malfoy said they don’t last very long._

Crabbe and Goyle had both gotten him Chocolate Frogs, Christmas-edition ones wrapped in bright green and red. He felt bad for not thinking of getting them a gift. He felt even worse when he found Malfoy’s gift to him; a book titled ‘ _1001 Self-Care Spells_ ’. It felt like a discreet insult, but a lot of what Malfoy did felt like an insult so he didn’t take it negatively.

“Thank you, I’m sorry I didn’t get any of you anything.” Harry had apologized the moment he found the three boys in the common room.

“We know you wouldn’t have.” Malfoy said, snorting and folding his arms. “You’re socially dumb.” He declared.

“Mum says that about my dad.” Crabbe nodded along. “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay.” Goyle agreed. “Did you like the frogs?”

Harry smiled and nodded. “I did, thank you.” He sat down next to them.

He spent Christmas Day with Draco, Vincent, and Gregory, listening to their wizard tales.

He didn’t realize that they hadn’t left for home until winter break had ended.

* * *

Hagrid won a dragon egg.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Harry commented. He’d skipped class to come see the egg hatch, a Norwegian Ridgeback Hagrid had said it was. 

“Should be fine.” Hagrid dismissed.

Dragon-keeping was perfectly illegal, but Harry couldn’t diminish the large man’s joy. He had read about taking care of one, and Harry was sure if anyone could handle a dragon, it’d be Hagrid. 

The egg, which was cracked and clicking from the inside, finally split open after an hour of patient waiting. All at once, the egg split apart and fell onto the table around the creature within.

Atiny black heap emerged. The wings seemed a bit too big for its body, its nostrils were wide, but its shining orange eyes and little horn stubs made it look almost cute.Harry reached for it. “Hello.” He whispered.

The dragon stared directly at him, a strange noise erupted from its mouth, and it bumped its head against his fingers. 

“Ain’t he the cutest?” Hagrid cooed. “Do you think he’s hungry?”

Harry tilted his head. The baby dragon bit on his fingers. Luckily, the tiny teeth weren’t big enough to tear through flesh. It did hurt though. “I think so.” He decided. “What are you going to name him?” He asked.

“Thinking Norbert.” Hagrid said.

Harry smiled. “Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback.” He said. “Sounds catchy.” 

The giant man beamed. “I’m goin’ to go get the chicken blood and brandy.” He said. “Stocked up on some, I did-“

While Hagrid fetched the dragon’s first meal, Harry scooped it up in his hands and brought it close to his chest.

“You’re kind of ugly, but you’re so ugly you’re cute.” He said, looking into its orange eyes. It made another strange noise, it sounded a bit like a garbled hiss, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. At the sound, it looked startled. “Your name is Norbert.” He said. “Hagrid’s your mummy. I think I’m like your, I don’t know. How about brother, yeah?”

Hagrid came back the with a metal bucket full of a thick, dark red mixture. “Why’re you hissin’ at him?” He asked.

“I’m not hissing at him.” Harry said, frowning. “I was just talking to him.”

The man blinked, then shrugged. Harry handed Norbert over to him to be fed. The dragon seemed a bit upset to be moved, but calmed down the moment he was held up by the bucket. Norbert shoved his entire face in.

Harry and Hagrid shared a laugh.

It took a full week before Harry got the chance to visit Hagrid again, to see little Norbert. To his shock, Norbert had grown at least double his size when he’d hatched. Hagrid said he had to keep on with a bucket of chicken blood and brandy every half-hour for an entire month, before moving onto smaller mammals like rodents and chickens. 

“Hello.” Harry greeted Norbert kindly, reaching out to pet its head.

Norbert let out the same garbled hiss as he’d done before. He butted his head against Harry’s hand and continued to gargle, happily jumping up into his arms.

“He likes those noises you make!” Hagrid laughed.

“I’m not making any noises.” Harry said, exasperated. “I told him hello!”

“Harry, you hissed!” Hagrid said. He frowned. “Think you might be,” His voice dropped to a whisper. “A Parseltongue?”

“What’s a Parseltongue?” Harry asked.

“Someone who can talk to snakes and such.” Hagrid said. “A book I ordered said Parseltongues can talk to dragons, but they can’t talk back.”

Harry remembered the snake at the zoo. “I think I am.” He realized. “I talked to a snake before, at a zoo.”

Hagrid nodded. “Ought not to tell many people, ‘arry.” He warned. “People don’t take kindly to it, think it’s a Dark thing.”

“That’s rather stupid.” Harry said. Many people said the same thing about Slytherin. “Wait, was Salazar Slytherin-“

“Aye.” Hagrid nodded, not needing Harry to finish. And even Harry knew enough about Slytherin to know that anything linked to him, wouldn’t lead to a good reputation for it. “They say only his descendants have that trait. You-Know-Who did.”

“And I do, too.” Harry said. “Strange, though. Was my mum or dad a Parseltongue?”

“Don’t believe so.” Hagrid said. “Yer mum couldn’t have been, but maybe James! Wouldn’t blame ‘im for not sharin’ it.”

Harry looked down at Norbert, who was breathing out little sparks from his nostrils. He seemed to be going to sleep. Having Parseltongue didn’t seem like too horrible of an ability to have, not at all.

* * *

Norbert grew and grew until he was as big as Harry, then even bigger. After three months, he was breathing out large bursts of flame whenever he wanted to. He liked rabbits an awful lot and liked it even more when he was allowed to chase them around. He was flying long before he could let out streams of fire, but he kept to short heights.

Exams neared closer and Harry sorrowfully saw his time with Norbert cut shorter and shorter. Hagrid was talking about finding a home somewhere else, since Norbert would very soon outgrow his place with them at Hogwarts. Still, he was a very well-behaved dragon.

Despite being able to understand Harry with his Parseltongue, Norbert followed Hagrid around and insisted on sleeping with him in bed. Hagrid had even went out and bought a larger bed so they could both fit better. Harry didn’t know how Norbert would do without Hagrid to sleep with, or Fang to play with, or even Harry to beg for attention from.

Vincent and Gregory had gotten used to Harry’s sudden disappearances on the weekend, but it irritated Draco to no end. “You need to study! You’re going to fail your exams!” He’d hiss right before throwing a large book at him. Or, just anything close-by, heavy, and not easily breakable.

Out of duty to his friends, Harry did stay in for a weekend here and there. He used his Invisibility Cloak to sneak out at night on those weekend days. He liked those, too, since he got to help feed Norbert his dinner.

Then, out of the blue one day, Hagrid proclaimed, “I told Dumbledore about Norbert.”

Harry frowned and gave Norbert the last strip of beef. “Is he mad?” He asked, not knowing very much about the elderly Headmaster.

“I dunno. Bit hard to tell with him.” Hagrid admitted. “He’s got connections in a Romanian colony, though…He’s goin’ to send Norbert there.”

“Oh.” Harry nibbled on his bottom lip. He looked at Norbert, who was probably nearing ten feet tall, licking blood off of his jaws.

“I know.” Hagrid sighed. “But it’s what’s best for Norbert.”

Harry had to agree. “It’s what best.” He said. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be sad about having to say goodbye.

Three days later, a group of wizards came to pick up Norbert. Harry cried when he said goodbye.

The year ended, too, not too soon after. Harry took his exams  and, thanks to Draco, was sure he did amazingly well. Slytherin won the House Cup and went through the year unbeatable in Quidditch. Vincent and Gregory served out a week’s worth of detention at the end of the year for beating up a Ravenclaw (Harry had to admit, he hadn’t stopped it. The Ravenclaw was extremely annoying). Draco cursed a fifth year.

And Harry decided he was going to get a pet dragon one day. For now, he thought he might be able to sneak a snake into school.

He didn’t notice the _Daily Prophet_ proclaiming the theft of the Philosopher’s Stone, until Draco pointed it out to him on the last day of school.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure if I'll continue this, but hEy maybe


End file.
